


Slow Down.

by apricated



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Baristas, Bikers, Feelings Realization, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Jung Wooyoung is Whipped, Jung Wooyoung-centric, Kang Yeosang-centric, Kissing at Midnight, M/M, Made For Each Other, Romantic Fluff, Shy Kang Yeosang, Slice of Life, Undercover, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:21:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24955228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apricated/pseuds/apricated
Summary: Wooyoung is dangerous, all mysterious and charismatic, circulating Seoul with his motorbike. Yeosang is quiet and reserved, delicate voice kept to himself. When they meet, Wooyoung is instantly entranced by the elder, who thinks he’s a mystery.
Relationships: Jung Wooyoung & Kang Yeosang, Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang
Comments: 5
Kudos: 98





	Slow Down.

**Author's Note:**

> hi <3 
> 
> this is my first ateez fic so i hope i don't disappoint! i've been loving woosang so much lately and when i saw a biker wooyoung edit on twitter, i had to write something inspired by it! 
> 
> song which inspired this : [slow down - chase atlantic](https://open.spotify.com/track/5lT5IZWW3JQErXELJpQgJ9?si=Ot8fG_LURCme2bNXxAIR2Q)

There’s something so utterly magnificent about floating in between the motorways at the hours of midnight, the echo of the motorbike’s engine whirring and throwing you in the middle of an action montage.

It’s what drives Wooyoung on, what makes him desire the whistling of the breeze upon the clothed epidermis of his shoulders and his exposed décolletage, and what ultimately made him choose this job out of everything out there.

Officially, his source of employment is quite vague and mysterious. He does a bit of everything.

Working for Seonghwa comes with varying missions to complete, and varying names imprinted in the deep crevices of his cerebrum as the days progress into different seasons, the wishful afternoons of springtime morphing into iridescent days of summer, then into the aromatic eventides of autumn and lastly, the loneliness of the winter mornings.

Wooyoung likes that, however. He lives off of the adrenaline indulged from the redundant spinning of the vehicle as he swerves the vacant lanes of the motorway, speeding off into the distance to patrol another boulevard unknown to him – to look for someone who’ll end up adding another plus to Seonghwa’s ongoing list of barcodes and files.

San says his habit is dangerous. He calls it that: habit. For Wooyoung, however, it’s a lifestyle, not something he unintentionally slips into. For him, perching himself upon the seat of the motorbike and switch it on before becoming a blur into the distance is something he thrives upon.

And San might not understand – and neither will Jongho, the barista inside Seonghwa’s office who prepares him his coffee and gives him quiet consolation when he most needs it – however Wooyoung is prepared for anything.

Jongho might give him a good night kiss and express his concerns in the form of a barely audible whisper when he concludes that his best friend is sleeping, occupying the other half of the double sized mattress he’s claimed four months ago, but Wooyoung is not worried about anything regarding his current status of living.

He simply allows himself to continue driving, to continue inhaling the refreshing scent of the morning wind, when it’s not yet polluted with dozens of carbon dioxide particles from the hundreds of automobiles crowding the commuting routes.

He’s not concerned of anything.

Until he meets Yeosang.

Working at the coffee shop a few roads away from his apartment has always seemed tedious, but recently, it has become Yeosang’s pleasure.

It’s particularly exciting to serve the silver-haired customer clad in a typical leather jacket, whose laughter is loud and whose voice is as bright as the bubble-gum he used to serve before working in this setting.

Wooyoung – as Yeosang had gradually learnt over the course of his time here – reminds the elder of an opposing magnet. The instant attraction he felt towards the younger has not subsided, even if his mind is plagued with the questions regarding the customer’s potential workplace.

It has not been long since Wooyoung has began purchasing his iced mocha from this place, and it has not been long since he visits Yeosang with his omnipresent smirk uplifting his youthful and absolutely gorgeous features, which are so revitalising to witness. Wooyoung is composed of a confidence that doesn’t seem arrogant in the slightest, paired with eyes that are actually anticipating the world out there, and with a gracefulness to his movements that captivates Yeosang even more.

To say the barista has developed the teensiest, tiniest crush on the younger, impeccably charismatic customer who parks his expensive motorbike with practiced ease outside the coffee shop is an understatement.

Wooyoung speaks with a lilt to his voice, as if he’s aware of Yeosang’s inner thoughts, and that should frighten him but… it doesn’t. Instead, Yeosang is even more attracted, his hands yearning to grasp hold of Wooyoung’s pretty fingers and interlink them with his.

Sometimes, the younger speaks of his friends, mentioning names and particular selective traits he adores the most (he says it annoys him but Yeosang can see the fondness lacing every word uttered from his lips) about each one. There’s Jongho, who’s younger and works as a barista too, and whose coffees and short hugs are warm and rare to find. There’s also San, who’s a couple of months older than Wooyoung – only a month younger than Yeosang – and when Wooyoung speaks of him, the barista knows they’ve been friends for a lifetime.

Yet, as time progresses, there’s many questions stuck on the tip of his tongue involving the charming younger. First of all, he doesn’t seem to attend university but is knowledgeable on the lessons life offers, being educated on most subjects they’ve talked about previously. Then, there’s the obvious _where do you work_ question, since Wooyoung never mentions about it. And when he leaves the coffee shop, climbing onto his motorbike and blending with the scenery outside, Yeosang wants to question whether the attraction he has is reciprocated.

There’s one day in which he attempts to muster the courage.

Him and Wooyoung are so different – whilst Yeosang’s voice is slow and delicate and mellowly transparent, Wooyoung’s is loud and completely withholding pride and an amusement towards most things said to him. Yeosang dresses in warm oversized sweaters and wears dainty rings on one finger on each hand, whereas Wooyoung wears V-neck t-shirts exposing his honeyed chest and tight noir jeans with denim or leather jackets.

Wooyoung walks in slowly, opening the door gingerly. Once he takes notice of Yeosang standing behind the counter and giving him a large smile (he won’t admit it any time soon but Wooyoung’s large smile, the one where his teeth poke out, brings him happiness too) as he straightens his blazer.

(Yeosang will later notice how the outfit is different compared to this usual attire, and when he’ll ask Wooyoung, he’ll get a tight-clipped response which still makes him ponder.)

One of the first things Yeosang takes notice every time he sees Wooyoung is how pretty his fingers are. Wooyoung has the habit to play with his hands whenever he’s addressing the barista – chunky rings adorn the base of his digits, and he twirls them around subconsciously, his eyes sometimes averting to focus on the metal he’s manoeuvring around.

He notices it this time too, the little action appearing so mesmerising to him. Quite frankly, _everything_ involving Wooyoung seems mesmerising to him.

“The regular?” He asks. They don’t need the typical greetings. It’s all straight-forward and bold when it comes to the person Yeosang admires so much – everything except details about himself.

“You know it.” Wooyoung winks, flicking his fingers to point them at Yeosang.

Without saying anything, the barista heads to prepare the usual drink Wooyoung orders, smiling to himself as he gets the ingredients in the coffee machine. The younger always gets the same drink – a regular sized iced mocha – and at this point, Yeosang’s mind already associates the drink with Wooyoung.

Whenever someone orders it, he almost writes the wrong name on the cup; whenever iced mocha is mentioned, an imagining of the face he’s come to enjoy seeing the most recently pops up in his cranium uninvited… but welcomed regardless. When days pass by with no sight of the younger, Yeosang finds everything dull, even if the scenery outside is shimmering with colour and vividness.

From the periphery of his eyes, he watches Wooyoung wait. Unsurprisingly, and quite adorably enough, the younger is fidgeting with his rings again, his eyes skimming the menus above Yeosang’s head with a peculiar amount of concentration.

Yeosang writes _Wooyoung_ on the cup, hesitantly adding an exclamation mark next to the neatly written symbols. He gazes at the name for a second, smiling shyly to himself as he quickly draws in a heart before he can regret it, and attempts his hardest to pass the cup to the younger nonchalantly.

It’s late today, and the coffee shop is meant to close in half an hour, but the barista enjoys the younger’s presence too much to not stay overtime if he has to. When he passes the cup to him, their fingers brush – slowly, sentimentally – and both of them give each other a look of timidity. Wooyoung looks at him, his wide orbs narrowing back to their sultry almond shape and his lips curl in a smirk simultaneously.

“When are you off?” He questions the barista, who blinks in surprise.

“In around half an hour. Why?”

Wooyoung takes a gulp of his drink, gulping it slowly. Somehow, Yeosang is already aware that this is intentional: it’s meant to raise suspense, suspicion… tension. “Are you willing to let me take you somewhere?”

And he doesn’t even have it in him to disagree.

Wooyoung’s motorbike is a prized possession of his.

Only Jongho and San have been on it, and presumably Seonghwa since he was the one to gift it to him the previous year. Meaning that no one else has even been capable of touching it except him.

So when Yeosang approaches it with a blend of anticipation and nervousness painting the expanse of his cheekbones a soft rose, Wooyoung is unsure as to why he is so okay with the elder occupying half of the motorbike’s seat.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” He asks softly, wanting to ensure Yeosang is okay with it. The barista nods slowly, eyes glimmering with awe and fully fixated on the vehicle awaiting them. Wooyoung lets out a soft chuckle, glancing at the elder subtly.

“Take this helmet.” He guides. Another small laugh escapes his lips when he witnesses the sight of the barista struggling to fixate the helmet onto his head. His hands automatically reach to help, grasping onto the straps of it with no hesitation and pulling them towards him.

During this act, he forgets to think of how close that’ll bring Yeosang to him, therefore he lets out a small squeak when their chests bump together with little to no force. Yeosang looks flustered in a way which appeases the younger, the rosy tone of his cheeks darkening and his gaze averting from Wooyoung’s instantly.

“Look at me.” Wooyoung whispers, loosening his hold onto the helmet straps. Yeosang obeys wordlessly, hazel eyes (so ethereal looking that Wooyoung thinks they’re contacts for a solid second) appearing so prettily dilated. They appear like they’re holding a whole treasure island inside, waiting to be explored, and Wooyoung is willing to be the explorer chasing dozens of islands to find Yeosang in the end.

“You’re going to have to hold me tightly on the way. We need balance.” He explains gently as he ties the straps together, twitching the helmet around slightly until it’s comfortable on the elder’s head.

Yeosang nods gently. “Okay.”

“Come on.” He speaks softly. “We have somewhere to get to.”

It’s eventide by the time they reach the motorway from the coffee shop, and to say Yeosang is thrilled is a complete understatement.

Arms holding Wooyoung’s waist tightly, his lips casually let out sounds of glee as the younger speeds down the smooth asphalt, feeling completely at bliss in this moment. It’s all so surreal — being with Wooyoung, _holding_ Wooyoung, feeling the way his body flexes as he switches lanes — and Yeosang adores every moment of it.

Working as a barista means his life is generally quite tedious. All he generally does is attend university classes, go to his work and sometimes, although very rarely, meet up with his friends.

However, Wooyoung’s presence brings a new kind of glee to his life. Yeosang’s unsure of why he developed feelings so quickly, but over the course of the many weeks the younger visited the coffee shop, it came as no surprise for him that he fell for the person that is Jung Wooyoung.

A person who is quite mysterious besides the funny stories he recalls at times. A person who enjoys the same drink and talks with a joy in his voice like no other person Yeosang knows. And he’s friends with Yunho and Mingi. 

“Who are you?” He finds himself screaming amidst the cold breeze, wondering if they look as if they’re in an action montage of a well-shot film, or if they simply look young and reckless, something which Yeosang doesn’t think he is.

“Huh?” Wooyoung shouts back.

“I _said,_ ” Yeosang replies, “ _who are you?”_

Wooyoung doesn’t even ponder over his response when he says: “I’m Jung Wooyoung!”

And quite frankly… Yeosang is okay with that. 

The place Wooyoung brings Yeosang at is his office.

Compared to what Yeosang had imagined, the interior is nothing spectacular: just a petrol grey sequence of walls with a few tables scattered around, ivory chairs pushed back from them messily, almost like someone stood up merely minutes prior.

Computers occupy most of the provided desks, and Yeosang’s eyes trail down to see dozens of cables wound up together in a kaleidoscopic sequence of noir, navy, and crimson. Amidst this, there’s three leather sofas placed in an upside down U shape, with a transparent coffee table placed beneath them.

It should look messy but Yeosang finds this setting quite entrancing. Something that’s definitely Wooyoung.

A person, looking younger than both Wooyoung and Yeosang — the barista assumes this is Jongho — comes in holding a mug of coffee gingerly. When he spots Wooyoung, his eyes warm immediately, but then instantly morph into confusion when he spots the person stood alongside his friend.

“Jongho.” Wooyoung says softly, a lazy smile overtaking his lips. His arms extend out, inviting the man in, and Jongho hesitantly moulds into the space given to him.

Yeosang watches the exchange with a smile on his lips, the smile widening as Jongho mumbles a quiet _who’s he_ into Wooyoung’s ear, before giving the barista a look of question.

“Yeosang.” Wooyoung mentions simply, breaking from the embrace casually. At this, Jongho’s eyes light up in recognition and he swallows awkwardly. He extends a hand out to Yeosang, who takes it in between his and shakes it firmly.

“Jongho.”

“Yeosang.”

The introductions and plain and curt, and Wooyoung’s hand immediately plasters itself on the back of the elder as he guides him around. It’s an act of subtlety, just a simple touch on the elder’s back, but Yeosang’s cheeks darken just like they did outside the coffee shop previously.

“I assumed you’ve been wondering where I work, so… I brought you here.” Wooyoung whispers into his ear. It causes Yeosang to tense, shoulders freezing awkwardly as he processes the words murmured so lowly in. His body takes the younger’s presence in and absorbs it so quickly, a sponge taking Wooyoung’s honey and tobacco aftershave in like water: hungrily.

Once again, he’s so captivated, unable to endure this sentiment of attraction he feels.

“It’s nice here,” he drawls softly, eyes focused on nothing surrounding them. Instead, he’s trailing the movement of the younger ruffling his hair with his right hand, fingers combing the fluffy tresses and messing them up to fit his preference.

Somehow, this hair makes him appear even more attractive, and Yeosang can only watch as Wooyoung looks at him so intensely. “You like it?”

His mouth is dry as he replies with: “Yes.”

Yeosang’s unsure of what he’s replying yes to – whether it is the setting they’re in or Wooyoung himself – but… he likes both. Wooyoung just gives him one more look and then a smile blossoms its way onto his features in the form of white lilies, making Yeosang’s heart stutter in his chest.

“Let me show you around.” The younger says before his hand envelops around the barista’s, his fingers folding themselves in the gaps in between Yeosang’s.

Wooyoung is reckless and mysterious, but in moments like these, Yeosang thinks he would love unravelling every petal forming the flower of a human he loves so much.

Midnight ensues like a tide, so gentle and ginger upon Yeosang’s shoulders, and he thinks this is the reason Wooyoung likes riding his motorbike at such hours.

His chin is hooked onto Wooyoung’s shoulder, and his arms are intertwined around the younger’s waist like previously, the midnight breeze washing over them both in the form of delicate swirls. It kisses every crevice of their skin, making them feel confident and beloved, and it’s such a simple moment but Yeosang loves it so much.

It’s just him and Wooyoung on a tiny automobile, two boys of the night drunk on the sensation of the wind and off each other. Yeosang’s lips are rosy and swollen, more than Wooyoung’s, and his heart is pulsating at a speed rivalling the one of the motorbike’s.

Wooyoung, just as per usual, is adorning that smirk of his that screams pleasure and joy. In this moment, he looks like a representation of the fire element, the grey on him looking explosively pretty in contrast to his scarlet lips he keeps biting to no end. His cheeks are flaming from the cold and yet, he looks more alive than ever.

He’s in his element.

And Yeosang is so awed by this sight, even if he can’t truly see the younger’s face the best right now. Even from the side, with the blessings of his pretty lips and slender nose, Wooyoung looks so beautiful.

Grasping onto the material of the blazer tighter, probably causing it to need ironing soon, the barista cannot help but render his thoughts in the form of a question. “Why are you wearing such fancy clothes right now?”

Wooyoung purses his lips when they switch lanes, the sight of the coffee shop coming nearer disappointing the elder. He wants to spend all night with Wooyoung, learn more about him through explicitly tender kisses, perhaps catch on a late night film together. Something romantic or even comical – or even a series they could binge watch – some form of way to stay together.

“To impress you.” Wooyoung speaks softer. The motorbike parks in front of the coffee shop, the younger letting a long sigh when he switches the engine off. He climbs off the bike only to climb on it, this time facing Yeosang, leaving the elder into a flustered mess when their thighs bump together and Wooyoung’s hands flow to rest on them immediately.

“If you were trying to do that, you succeeded.” Yeosang speaks. The physical touch makes him melt into something akin to honey, and he wants to mould in the younger’s body in an embrace just like Jongho had done earlier inside Wooyoung’s workplace.

“I’m glad.” Wooyoung smiles, letting out a quiet chuckle. It subsides, however, when Yeosang leans in, their faces only millimetres apart.

“Glad I got to meet you, detective Jung.” Yeosang whispers.

And as their lips attract each other, resembling opposite ends of a magnetic pole, Yeosang couldn’t be happier. Two different worlds, one of a detective and one of a part-time barista, full-time university student, colliding together, however in silent moments like these, with tender kisses shared, Yeosang couldn’t wish for more.

Indeed, Jung Wooyoung is more.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!
> 
> i took 2 days to write this - with a day and a half break in between - so i hope it doesn't seem too rushed or anything. the ending is left to interpretation so you can imagine whether they begin dating straight away / take some time to. i hope you enjoyed this!


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